


Unsteady

by DetectiveRiley (RavenWhitecastle)



Series: The Sinner and the Saint [42]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Faint, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Protective John, Protective John Reese, Weak Harold Finch, Worry, fatigue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/DetectiveRiley
Summary: Harold attacks the Samaritan problem with a fresh vengeance, but he forgets to look after himself in the process. He has a duty to save the world, after all.~Title from X Ambassadors song.
Relationships: Harold Finch/John Reese
Series: The Sinner and the Saint [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/940422
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Unsteady

Harold had tackled the Samaritan problem with a fresh vengeance. The numbers came less frequently, at least it seemed that way to John. Without relying on the Machine, Harold was spending all of his time doing research, looking for weak spots in Samaritan’s structure. He was always at his desk whenever John met him in the Subway. Root would be around, leaned against the Faraday cage or sleeping in her room. Even Shaw would be curled up on the bench sometimes, one hand curled around her gun, the other clenched into a fist under her head. But Harold was always hard at work, and he took on the role of absentee, coming home late or not coming home at all. 

“Do you think you being away from home all the time will raise suspicion?” John commented once.

Harold shook his head. I spend time on campus, ‘grading papers,’” he answered, making air quotes with his hands.

“What do you do with the papers that actually need grading?” John asked.

“I let one of the interns do it,” Harold said before walking away, effectively ending the conversation.

One evening, John went looking for Harold. He hadn’t seen his partner at the house in far too long, and while John did as Harold asked as much as he could, Harold hadn’t asked for anything in a while. John was starting to grow concerned.

The subway station was empty except for Harold, who was sitting at his desk as usual. John noted with surprise that the desk was covered in empty cups, all from the shop where Harold got his tea. 

“How did you manage to misspell that word  _ six _ different ways…” Harold was muttering as he made red marks on some hapless student’s essay. It was almost comical, but John wasn’t in a laughing mood.

“Didn’t expect you to be working so late on a weekend,” John said. Harold started in his seat, almost dropping his pen and startling Bear out from under the desk where he’d been sleeping. Bear greeted John by licking his palm, but John barely noticed. 

It took Harold a moment for him to recognize John’s presence. When he finally did, he sighed. “John, you scared me half to death.”

“I could say the same thing.” John’s tone was quiet, even, but the tense of his shoulders and the clench of his jaw suggested he was anything but.

Harold, to John’s concern, barely noticed. “It’s good to see you, but I don’t have any new numbers…” He trailed off, looking over the clutter of his desk in search of files that didn’t exist. 

John pursed his lips. “I’m here for you. I thought you let the interns grade your papers.”

“I do, sometimes. Currently, I’m waiting on some results from another test on Samaritan’s code. I thought I’d get some grading done while I waited.”

“You should rest. How many green teas have you had today?”

Eyes darting over the arrangement of cups, Harold answered, “I’ve lost track, but speaking of, would you run and get me another one?” He looked up at John expectantly.

“The coffee shop is closed, Harold,” John replied carefully, “It has been for hours.”

Harold’s brow furrowed before he glanced at his watch. “Goodness, is it that time already? No matter. I think I’m getting close to a breakthrough, if the analysis results are ready…”

Shakily, Harold stood from his seat. John moved forward, hands outstretched. Harold only made it a few steps before he stumbled and pitched forward. Heart dropping, John lunged forward to catch Harold and deposit him back in his chair. “Jesus, Harold,” John murmured, “When was the last time you slept?”

Harold sat with his eyes closed for a few moments, head drifting from side to side. He was clearly dizzy and probably fending off a headache. “I got three hours of sleep on Wednesday,” he muttered.

John’s heart sank. “That doesn’t answer my question. You do realize it’s Saturday, right?”

There was another long silence. Harold avoided John’s gaze, breathing deeply as he tried to steady himself.

Sighing, John looked at Harold with stern eyes. He wanted to be angry, but Harold looked so small, and a little confused. All of John’s anger melted away.

“Come on,” John said, standing and holding out his hand, “Let’s go home.”

Harold looked up at John, dazed. “Why?”

“You need sleep.”

“I’m no use if I’m unconscious,” Harold argued, rubbing at his eyes behind his glasses. 

John reached forward and helped Harold to his feet. “You’re no use running on nothing but green tea and spite,” he said, guiding Harold up the stairs. “We’re all working hard, but you have to take care of yourself. Even Shaw and Root manage to get some shut-eye sometimes.” Firmly, he added, “On that note, you’re on house arrest until further notice.”

Harold glared. “You can’t do that. You’re not a  _ real _ detective.” Harold sounded so petulant that John almost chuckled.

“I’m not doing it as Detective Riley. I’m doing it as your partner,” John said. Harold looked up at him, and John added, “I’ve done everything you asked, as best as I could. Could you do this one thing for me?”

They reached the top of the stairs. John paused with his hands on Harold’s shoulders and waited.

After a few seconds, Harold nodded. “All right, John.”

“Good.” John hailed a cab when they reached the curb. Harold fell asleep leaning on John’s shoulder on the ride home, as John smiled at him fondly. 


End file.
